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“Isn’t it a bit late for it?”
“Have you checked the weather? There’s a late cold front moving in,” I explained. “But no, it’s not too late for it this far north. I’ve seen snow in April and even early May before.”
“Wow.” She used her sleeve to wipe away the condensation from her breath. “Will this affect your sister’s wedding?”
“It shouldn’t do. Although it depends what the weather does,” I admitted, eyeing it. “It’s not too bad right now.”
“You’re the one who just asked me if I’d checked the weather. Don’t you know what it’s going to do?”
I was stopped from responding by a succession of loud knocks at the door. I frowned and turned around, then walked back to the door and opened it.
Freya stormed into the room, still wearing a thick coat, boots, and a huge bobble hat that was too big for her head and flopping to the side. “Have you seen this weather?” she cried, throwing her arms in the air. “William!”
“Good morning, sister dear,” I replied to the empty space in the doorway. “Please, come on in.”
“Oh, don’t fuck about,” she snapped, pulling the hat off her head. “Look at all that snow!”
I pushed the door shut and turned back to her. “I’ve seen it. It’s nice.”
If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.
“When does it stop?” she demanded.
“Do you not have access to a weather forecast? Have you tried this thing called the Internet?”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’m sure if you ask nicely, Grandpa will let you turn on the news to wait for the forecast, you know.”
“William!” Her voice raised several octaves, almost squeaking at the very end. “You’re not this dense! I’m panicking.”
“You’re not, are you? I can’t tell. That’s the problem with being dramatic.”
Freya clenched her fists together and paused, shaking them slightly, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to thump me one or not.
If I were a betting man, and I did like to dabble now and then, I’d have at least a fiver on her hitting me.
I’d probably not get good odds on it, though.
“Stop being a brat,” Grace said, leaning against the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. “She’s clearly upset.”
“She’s always upset about something,” I told her. “Grace, this is my bridezilla—”
“I swear to God, William, I will break your kneecaps,” Freya snapped.
I fought back a laugh. “I mean my darling sister, Freya.”
She took a step towards me, and I, buoyed by years of being punched by her, instinctively took a step back.
Grace’s lips twitched.
“This is Grace. My girlfriend,” I added, pointing towards her.
Freya snapped her head around, pausing slightly. “The secret girlfriend, right? That nobody knew about?”
“I’m a grown man with my own life,” I reminded her.
“No,” Freya replied, unwinding her scarf round around her neck. “Sorry, I’m being extremely rude. Grace, it’s lovely to meet you, and I’m terribly sorry for bursting in on you both like this.”
